


Do it yourself

by Wriorem



Category: Actor RPF, Once Upon a Time RPF
Genre: Drunk Bobby, Drunkenness, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:51:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wriorem/pseuds/Wriorem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emilie's plumbing gives her troubles and a Scottish handyman decides to step in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do it yourself

Emilie de Ravin's day had started badly. 

The first thing she stepped in after leaving her bed had not been her slippers but Louise's morning pee. She had stubbed her toe against the bed when she had hopped on one foot to get something to clean it off. The milk in her fridge had turned foul, her toasts had burned in the toaster and she realised she had forgotten to iron clothes for the day. 

And now, after her breakfast, the water she was using for her dishwashing was currently leaving her sink with the speed of a turtle. After it was finally gone, she checked the syphon and it was clean. 

Emilie was ready to blow up.

At 7 on the dot, her phone rang Bobby's special ringtone, indicating he was downstairs, waiting for her to come down. Since she lived on his way to work, whether it was in Steveton or at the Bridges Studios in Burnaby, they had decided he'd pick her up whenever they had the same schedule. 

She didn't have her shoes on yet and literally pounced onto her boots to put them on. Stanley, Mable and Louise looked at Emilie with adoring eyes. She smiled at her pets. The dogsitter, Nora, would pick her dogs in one hour to care for them in the day.   
"Have a good day, babies. Be nice to Nora," she told them gently. 

Emilie took a few minutes to turn off the water main before leaving. 

Bobby was double-parking in the street down her building, waiting for her while checking his phone. She entered his BMW with a sigh of relief. Low rock music was on, heat was blowing and he was smiling at her.  
"Hello," he greeted her.  
"Hey." 

Emilie sat and bent over to kiss his cheek. He was clean-shaven and smelled good, a discreete wooden and fresh perfume. It was a comforting smell, manly and soothing. The only good thing of her day for now.   
"You ok, Em ?" he asked as he started the engine and got into the traffic.  
"Ok, I guess. And you ?"   
"Doing good." 

Bobby was a fast but smooth driver. He had a big executive type german car and he liked pushing up the engine whenever he could. Of course, at this time, the roads started to fill and he had to drive more slowly than what he actually liked.   
"You don't look like you're okay," he said, glancing briefly at her.  
"Hm."  
"Tell me."  
"I had a shitty start and plumbing gave me troubles."

Bobby made a disgusted noise and Emilie added, "The sink drained slow and it is not the syphon."  
"Fuck," he commented.  
"Yeah. And since we finish extra late and start early, I won't be able to call the plumber this week end."  
"What about the janitor ?"  
"I don't trust him," Emilie answered. "Last time he came into my flat, Stanley escaped in the corridor and I think he looks like a pervert."   
Bobby snickered. "Scared he steals your knickers ?"  
"He looks like he could sell them on ebay." 

They glanced at each other and burst out laughing.   
"Stop it, you little shit," Emilie breathed out between two giggles.   
"You started it !"   
"I certainly did not !"

They calmed down, exchanging affectuous looks. The drive went on smoothly until a silence between two songs.   
"I could take a look," Bobby suggested gently.   
"At what ?"  
"Your sink."  
"Oh ! Yes, thank you !" Emilie replied, squeezing his hand on the gear stick.   
"After work, then."   
And with a smile, he focused back on the road. 

The day was normal. Long hours, a collective meal in the catering area of the Bridges Studios, a coffee in Bobby's trailers while listening to Kasabian, a nap in the afternoon in her trailer, another meal with Lana and Colin while Bobby was shooting with Jmo. She shot until 11pm and took a shower. When she came back, she found Bobby leaning against playing angry bird on his iphone.   
"You know you get awfully bad-tempered when you lose at this," she commented, her hand rising to brush a hair strand out of his face.

He turned the app off with a teasing scowl and pocketted his home.   
"You're a fucking support to my ego," he commented matter-of-factly.  
Emilie burst out laughing. "Your ego doesn't need my support, darling." She hooked her arm around his and they walked together to his car.

The ride home was peaceful, in music and jokes. They were both tired and she didn't want him to bother with her plumbing.  
"You don't have to check the sink now, Bob. It's late and you probably want to go to bed."  
"You think I'm an old man or what ?" he chuckled and parked. "It's not too late."   
"We've been up for 16 hours," she protested.  
"I don't know about you but I napped this afternoon and I don't mind doing it. You ?"  
"I'm good," Emilie replied before exiting the car. "Come on, Oldie."  
"Sure, little girl." 

Bobby took a tool box out of the trunk of the car. Seeing her wide eyes, he felt the need to explain, "I asked one tech on the set, he let me borrow it from the maintenance."

They entered her building and stood next to each other in the elevator. 

Em had taken next to nothing when leaving LA and so lived in a small furnished flat in the city center. It was quite small but she fit in with her pets and her plants and she was happy in it. It was Bobby's first time in her place and all she could think about was whether she had folded the dried clothes the night before or not. 

The answer, as it turned out, was no, and a basket full of now very wrinkly clothes, in which Stanley was napping, rested on her couch. Mable and Louise arrived, yapping and wagging happily. 

Bobby followed in. "The flat is at your size," he just said, bending to pet the dogs.   
"Oh, fuck off," Emilie replied and they both sniggered. "Want a beer ?"  
"Yeah, bring it on."

He went into the kitchen and placed the tool box by the sink. He removed his jacket and wrapped it over a chair, feeling more comfy to work in casual clothes.

Emilie smiled, enjoying the sight of his jeans-clad ass and of his forearms displayed by his Tshirt. She opened two bottles of beer, gave him one and took the other for herself. It was so good to drink. The cold beer ran down her throat and she enjoyed the sensation with a satisfied smile. She felt she deserved it. She had worked hard and a good fresh drink with a friend was the best way to end a day.   
"I'll need a basin, if you don't mind," he told her.   
"Sure."  
Emilie fetched the requested basin and gave it to him.

Bobby finished his beer quickly and opened the cupboard under the sink before kneeling and removing the cleaning products stored there.  
"Slow drain, right ?" he asked.   
"Yes," Emilie answered.

Oh god, he was on all-fours, peeking at the syphon. His ass was on display and her eyes feasted. She gulped a mouthful of beer, failing to look away. Bobby may have been over fifty but his butt was one of the most magnificient she had ever seen. Not too round, not too flat, he was made to wear jeans. 

Emilie felt a blush come up to her cheeks and warmth between her thighs. She turned away quickly, chastising herself for those thoughts which were as sinful as his ass. She rolled eyes inwardly. Her celibacy was starting to grow heavy if she was aroused at a guy fixing her sink. 

But then, it wasn't a random guy, it was Bobby. Bobby was special. He was one of the most handsome, funny and unavailable guy ever. They had something special, an unique chemistry. She had read once that some people were one soul in two bodies. Emilie felt this way with Bobby.

After the last SDCC, during which he had cancelled all his interviews and invited himself in hers, she had gone on tumblr to get a feeling of the way the convention had been received by the fans. 

She had seen gifsets of them being "twins" and god they were. The way they simultaneously and spontaneously reacted - shrugging, laughing, looking around - was sometimes creepy and scary. She had never acted this way with anyone before. She didn't think it was possible. 

Emilie sighed and crouched to pet Mable just as Bobby turned toward the toolbox to take a wrench. Their eyes met and they smiled. 

He turned back to the sink and changed position. He kneeled on one knee to get leverage to untighten whatever pipe he was focused on. He leaned further into the cupboard and pulled his Tshirt up out of his descending jeans, showing his dark boxers. 

Her mouth filled with saliva and she got up quickly, and she leaned against the fridge door, trying to look casual and cool.

Bobby got up and stretched his back and legs.  
"If you want another beer, help yourself," she told him. 

He went to her and stood by her side. He grinned and looked at her face up and down. Emilie could see he was trying to look into her eyes but he kept flicking his to her mouth and it was distracting her. A blush covered his face.   
"You're looking like you want more."  
In the maze of the rising desire in her, she couln't have heard him properly.   
"What ?"  
"You're standing in front of the door," he repeated. 

For a few seconds, she stood in front of him, having no idea of what he meant.   
"The beer in the fridge ?" he added. "You're in front of the fridge."   
"Oh !" 

She jumped away from him, from the fridge and nearly tripped on the toolbox.  
"You okay ?" Bobby asked in a concerned voice. "You look flushed."

Of course she was flushed. She was turned on, trying to keep up a façade of detachment when all she wanted was to push him against the kitchen counter and do things to him worthy of being in a Rumbelle fic.   
"Yes, I'm okay, all fine, really," Emilie replied, clearing her throat. She drank from her bottle as a cover-up. She could see he didn't really believe her. 

He leaned against the counter and took a sip too.  
"So, there's a ball of debris in your pipe. I can't use a zip-it tool from the sink because of the pop-up," Bobby explained to her. "So I removed the syphon to be able to use the zip-it directly into the pipe."  
Em nodded. "Alright."

His second empty bottle joined the first on the counter and he kneeled again to finish his task. She saw what he was inserting a long and thin stick into the pipe and wiggled it back out, and back in and back out...

She nearly moaned at the sight and looked away. She really needed to buy a sextoy if this sight turned her on.   
"Yes !"

A victorious cry from under the sink drew her attention. Bobby laid the zip-it down and put the plumbing back together quickly. Still kneeling, he put all the tool into their box before getting up with the basin. There was a blackish watery goo and a dark stinking blob in it. She definitely didn't want to consider what was actually in it.  
"Where's the bathroom ? I'm going to wash this down the toilets."

Emilie pointed down the little entrance corridor "The door just next to the flat entrance."   
Bobby went there and Em used the time to compose herself. She was a gifted actress and she could use the gift.   
She took a deep breath and she wetted her face a little. She really hoped Bobby's handywork on the plumbing would hold and it did. She checked underneath the sink to see if the pipe was leaking or not, and thankfully it didn't. 

Emilie heard a little gasp behind her and she turned back up, seeing Bobby raise up his eyes to her face. She wondered if he was checking out her ass.   
"You okay ?" she asked.  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay, Angel," he answered, helping himself to a fourth beer. 

She couldn't help smiling at his familiarity. It was his first time in her place and he was behaving like he was already on known grounds. It was heartwarming but the speed at which he drank the beer bottle alarmed her a little.   
"Want another ?" he asked as if he was the owner of the place.   
"Nae," Emilie answered in a Scottish accent.  
"Oy fuck off, Koala !" 

Bobby drained the end of his bottle quickly and laid out on the counter with a loud clang. Emilie shook her head. She could see he was troubled. He was restlessly twisting his hands now that he had nothing to hold anymore, looking at anywhere but her.  
"Bobby ?" Em asked, a bit concerned.  
"Yeah ?"   
"You okay ?"   
"Yeah, of course, Ah'm okay." 

He was off, she was sure of it. He was on his way to becoming drunk off his ass. Once, he had told her that he was a lightweight when alcohol was concerned and it seemed he hadn't lied, unfortunately.   
"Have you eaten ?" Emilie asked.  
"No."  
"I'll make you something to eat, you can't drink on an empty stomach, Robert," she said sternly. "I'll make you a sandwich and I'll drive you back. You're not able to drive."   
"Dance with me ?"  
"What ?"  
"Dance with me, Emilie..." Bobby requested with big puppy eyes.   
"But it's late, you're drunk and tired."  
"Let's rehearse the dance. I can't do the turn and you dance so well..."

Alcohol was starting to hit him hard, she could see it. His speech was slurring progressively but his balance was still good.  
"Please, Em ?" he insisted.   
"Fine. But you're eating straight after this, okay ?"  
Bobby nodded his agreement vigourously.   
"Yeah Em. Dancing and fooding."

She rolled her eyes and he held his stance. For a drunk guy, he was pretty good.   
"Ah fuck no!" he exclaimed. 

He bent toward Emilie, trying to muster a seductive, loving and confident look, failing it totally. He looked like an awkward puppy focusing with all his strength on the treat he coveted.

"Care to dance, Mrs..."

He hesitated on the last word. Heck, it was the simplest.   
"Gold," she breathed.   
"Yeah but no. Care to dance, Mrs. Emilie ?"  
"Belle."  
"Well, Rumple wants to dance too, true. So you dance ?" He asked, holding his hand out. 

She decided to drop the matter of the introductary sentence and placed her hand in his. "I would love to," she replied. 

One of them HAD to be professional about this whole mess of a situation.   
He moved to wrap his arm around her waist. His eyes fixed on hers were feverish, his jaw was tight and his fingers twitched against hers. The weight of his burning gaze scorched her skin and put her soul on fire. He laid his brow on hers, licking his lips and Emilie felt her guts lurch and send a path of yearning right to her sex. 

Their first move was a lift. Bobby braced himself and moved backward. Emilie jumped, using his shoulder and hand as leverage. It was perfect until he made a side step to keep his balance. 

The couch bumped into her foot and the perfect arc she was following turned into a mess. Her upper body was still moving whereas her feet couldn't anymore. Emilie gripped Bobby tighter and he lost his balance, falling backward onto the rug, pulling her over him. 

They laid in shocked silence for a second or too until he started to snigger.   
"Your flat is fucking small, love."

She glared at him with an offended look and it made him laugh. His mirth, the fact none of them was hurt, and she couldn't help it. She relaxed and joined him into laughter. She rolled off him and laid by his side. 

They looked at each other, laughing until their sides hurt, until they were out of breath, until they laughed no more. Then, something changed. They lost their smile, still staring at each other, trying to catch their breath.

Emilie saw Bobby look at her lips and his pupils dilated. This ran through her body like the echoing sound of a gong. It chimed through her veins when he raised himself on his elbow to observe her. 

She observed him too. He licked his lips nervously.   
"Would y-you mind if I..." he started.  
"If...you ?"  
"If I..."

Bobby laid a hand on the other side of her, hovering over her. His breath fell onto her face, beer and his very essence mixed and somehow heavenly. As he stayed there, trying to decide what to do, she squirmed under him, rubbing her thighs together.   
"Emilie, I-"

Hunger pooling low in her belly, she bit her bottom lip to try to contain a moan. It broke him. He crashed his mouth to hers, licking the inseam of her lips. The next thing she knew, Bobby's tongue was in her mouth.

He lowered his body onto hers, between her legs, holding his weight on his elbow. "My love, my love, my love..." he kept whispering between nips to her bottom lip, to her upper lip, licks to her palate to her tongue. His drunken technique was messy but he was pouring every single one of his feelings out in this kiss. 

Emilie enjoyed it. She had been waiting for months, years even, for this moment. She wrapped her arms tight around Bobby and buried her hands in his hair. She adored it, finding it sexy as hell. "Ooooooooh," she moaned in his mouth.

He broke the kiss and nuzzled her neck before grinning at her the smile of the wonderland cat. "Like it ?" he asked in a sultry voice, which made her shiver, despite the beer breath and the way he slurred his words.   
"You have no idea," she answered before frowning a little. The way he talked betrayed how drunk he was. Emilie realised he was drunk off his ass and so not really aware of what he was doing. 

She pushed him away, catching the hurt glance he gave her as she got up.   
"What ya doing ?" he said, following her up to his feet, staggering a little.   
"You're drunk, Bobby," Em replied.   
"Yeah so ?"  
"So it's not a good moment at all !"

She went back into the kitchen and opened a drawer to take her car keys, Bobby behind her.   
"Em ?" He frowned, not understanding what she was doing. "What are you doing ?"  
"I'm driving you home."   
He shook his head. "No."  
"You're drunk, and you don't know what you're doing," she replied.

Oh god, it hurt. He was turning the hurt puppy eyes on her, and it clenched her guts to do this.   
"C'mon, Em, I wanna stay here."   
"I'm driving you home," she answered sternly, repeating what she had already said.  
"But I'm home..." he protested weakly.

Emilie felt a pang in her chest, wondering why he was doing this to her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all ! Here he was, that gorgeous legend, kissing her and telling her things that he shouldn't tell her.   
"Stop it," she replied.   
"Emilie, Emilie, Emilie," Bobby repeated, stepping into her way, his hands on her shoulder."  
"What ?"  
"Your beauty is a flower that blooms on the ruins of my life, Emilie."

This sudden spurt of poetry made her stand still. She stared into his eyes, looking for something.  
"Holy fuck," she said in a shocked voice. "You're totally trashed." 

He was worse than she had thought. She opened a cupboard, grabbed a box of crackers and shoved it in her hands.   
"Eat your crackers !" she ordered, suddenly angry. Bobby had come, binge-drank and now was a total mess, and worst of all, she had no idea of why he did this. "You're drunk."  
"I'm not drunk, I'm just intoxicated by you."  
"Bobby, be quiet," Em growled at him.  
He shivered. "I'm trying," he said after a silence.  
"Yes, you're very trying."

Bobby gave his best expression of an offended kitten left outside in the snow. Em rolled her eyes and took his jacket before wrapping it around his shoulders. She couldn't help patting his chest down, he was magnificent after all. She sighed deeply, longing haunting her soul. Another sigh answered her and she looked up.

He was staring at her, his hunger carved on his features. Bobby grinned and leaned toward her. Emilie couldn't help tensing in anticipation as his face came near hers. However, he passed her lips and laid his cheek against her. He whispered gently in her ear, "Your eyes are bluer than the Atlantic Ocean and I'm lost at sea." 

Emilie pushed him off, grabbed his forearm and pulled him toward the entrance. Of course, he had to be a teasing affectuous drunk. He refrained from behaving this way when he was sober but when they shared an embrace in front of the camera, when they had a spontaneous hug behind it, Emilie could feel the clutch of his finger in her flesh, this reluctance to release her. It was understandable when they were Rumbelle but when they were not... It added to her confusion. 

Alcohol could only make him even more confused too, she deduced, opening the door to force him out. She ignored the little voice in the back of her mind telling her alcohol lowered inhibitions and uncovered behaviours that wouldn't have been shown otherwise.

Bobby wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding the crackers box with the other.   
Emilie pressed the button to call the lift and they waited in silence. She felt him pressing her to his side, his hand tight around her arm. His thumb caressed her top in a circle arc, as if he was trying to rub a C into her body. She shivered at the thought of him branding her.   
"Oh you're cold," he noticed. 

Awkwardly, he envelopped her in his jacket and pulled it tight around her. "There," Bobby added with a gentle crooked smile.   
"Thank you..."  
"My pleasure," he answered with a heavy accent.

His chivalrous act brought him closer than before, but she relished it. 

The elevator doors opened with a ding and Bobby escorted Emilie in, a hand on the small of her back, a hand he didn't remove until they reached her car in the underground parking lot of her building. 

She had a blue Austin Mini. When he saw her car, Bobby couldn't help remarking, "Mini flat, mini car, Eminie."  
Emilie couldn't help sniggering, "At least, the car is fit for me. I don't have a huge car to compensate my age."  
"Yeah, maybe, but it doesn't compensate the size of my cock, love." 

She opened the cardoor and pushed him inside. She leaned over him to buckle him up and he deposited a fiery kiss on her throat.   
"You're not playing fair," she complained.  
"Nothing's fair in love and war," he responded in a slur, running his fingertips up her arm.

She closed the car door on his side, and, as she circled the vehicle, Emilie tried to regain her calm, something she had to do a lot this evening.   
Bobby was inside, waiting for her to come in. 

With a last heavy sigh, she went inside, buckling up quickly. She resolved to be firm and strict with him since she was obviously the adult in this situation.  
"I'm going to drive you home. Your car keys are in my flat. Tomorrow, you'll come fetch me in a taxi and we'll go work together. Have you understood ?"  
"Yes, Ma'am," he purred at her with hooded eyes. 

Was he falling asleep ? It would be a good thing, actually. It was a lost wish, though. When she started the drive to his house, he straightened and grinned at her. 

Bobby laid a hand on her knee at the first red light. At the second, he reached out to her and pecked her cheek. At the third, he cupped her face and gave her a proper kiss.  
And Emilie let him do to her what he wanted, so much for being strict and firm. Her resolves melted like snow in hell when she faced his drunk but honest tenderness.  
"I wanna do it all the time," he confessed against her lips. "It's hard just being your friend."   
"I know," she answered softly.

She understood, of course. It took two persons to tango, after all. Their situation was so bad in itself, torn between passion and friendship. She may be available, her divorce with Josh signed, but he wasn't. This decision was his to make, not hers. However, she had conditions. She didn't want to be the Other Woman either, or at least, not for long. She wanted to be the Irene Adler to his Holmes : The Woman. 

The car behind them honked and they broke their kiss off. The light was now green. 

Bobby's hand slid from her knee to her thigh, his fingertips massaging the inner part. She managed to stop herself from panting like an animal in heat, though she currently felt as one. The small caresses, a little but constant assault to her defenses, were too close to her heat. Emilie felt too big in her own skin, she wanted to jump out of it. This contact was maddening, distracting. It made her insides curl up in lust, it made her hot. Her centre twitched and throbbed. She was sure her knickers were ruined, so wet it seemed Bobby had poured a bottle of water over them.

She broke the speed limit, reaching West Vancouver in record time. The few lights left on the road were fortunately all green.

Bobby stayed silent the whole time, just touching her.   
Emilie parked in front of his house and turned the engine off. The street lamp posts shone into the car, drawing sharp shadows on their faces.  
"You're home," she said.  
"This is not my home," he answered, leaning his head back on the headrest.  
"Bobby... you're drunk, you must go and sleep it off. Tomorrow, we work."

He considered her for a few moments. He looked on the verge of saying something but shook his head. "Good night, blue-eyed siren, your voice will call to me in my dreams."  
"Good night, Bobby..."

He looked at her and swallowed.

He cupped her face and he leaned in. The creasing of his jacket as she met him halfway was deafening in this car where the only other sound was their heavy breathing. In the darkness, she couldn't see his expression, but the light pull of his fingertips was enough.

Bobby's mouth covered hers, with none of the drunken mess from earlier. It was so warm, softer than she thought and so perfect she could start crying. She felt the tip of his nose touch her cheek and she raised her hands into his hair. Their eyes closed and Emilie smiled against his lips. He tasted of happiness, she realised. It was frustrating not to be able to wrap her arms around him and when he leaned backward, breaking their kiss off, she couldn't stop herself from sighing.   
"Goodnight, Emilie," he whispered softly.   
"Goodnight... 7 am ?"   
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Keep my jacket, I'll take it back tomorrow..."

Emilie nodded and Bobby stared at her for a few more seconds before exiting her car and going inside his house without a glance back.

She sighed again and bit her nail nervously. She was turned on like she had never been before in her life and he had never even touched her properly. 

As she was driving home and relativizing, she decided that her state of arousal could be fixed with a glass of wine, a sextoy and a google image search of Bobby. 

The rest could wait tomorrow.


End file.
